Surprise
by Open Casket Ceremony
Summary: Hitsugaya decides to plan a surprise birthday party for Ichigo...but the birthday boy is beginning to get suspicious. IchiHitsu, oneshot. Birthday fic for Ichigo!


Author's Note: Okay, I know I promised that I would post the second part to _Don't Forget _sometime soon, but I realized sometime ago that it was July 15 today - Ichigo's birthday! And, as you know, it's my tradition to always write a special birthday-fic on Ichigo and Hitsugaya's birthdays each year. So I guess you'll have to wait until later to read Part II? For nows, this is all you get. I'm sorry!

* * *

**Surprise**

**by Open Casket Ceremony**

* * *

The day was drawing near.

A day of utmost importance.

And, being quite OCD when it came to getting things done, Hitsugaya Toshiro was determined to make July 15th absolutely _perfect_. There would be no if's or but's about it. There would be no mistakes. It would be completely, absolutely, one-hundred-percent _perfect_.

Failure was not an option.

Of course, that day was one that the prodigy had scribbled onto his calendar months in advance. A certain strawberry's birthday.

On his own day of birth, Hitsugaya remembered Ichigo throwing a party for him. And he was determined to return the favor, but there was a catch to his plan - it was going to be surprise. And if anyone dared let a single word slip about it, there would be hell to pay.

To achieve this would take a great amount of calculation. A lot of brain power.

Brain-power Hitsugaya had, but he wasn't quite sure if he'd be able to throw a party that Ichigo would like.

And, being a wide-known party-pooper in the first place, Hitsugaya wasn't even sure _how_.

He had spent a full three hours in his office making a list of people who might possibly wish to participate in Ichigo's surprise party, then spent another four writing out all the invitations and having his messengers send them off. Each message was concluded with a death threat should any of the invitees leak word of the plan to the birthday-boy-to-be.

And to ensure that he didn't ruin things on accident, he was taking extra-special care not to spend any time at all with him, not even a second. On occasion, Ichigo would give him a call and invite him down to the real world for some fun, but he always made up an excuse about being terribly busy.

Each day, Hitsugaya checked his calendar almost obsessively, counting the days until the strawberry's birthday would arrive.

Today was no exception.

With the fierce determination and concentration that was reserved usually for completing the paperwork, he whipped out his writing materials and began to compose a long list of things that needed to be purchased. Food. Beverages. Presents. Things like that.

In the middle of his work, the door whipped open. In bounded Ichigo, who seemed to be in high spirits at the moment.

"Hey, Toshiro!" he sing-songed, "What're you doing?"

Alarmed, Hitsugaya threw down his pen and hastily shoved the list into his desk drawer, praying Ichigo hadn't noticed.

The strawberry gave him a strange, suspcious look.

"Alright, Toshiro, hand it over," he demanded, holding out a hand. "You trying to hide things from me?"

"I-I can't show that to you," Hitsugaya lied, "It's confidential paperwork."

The subsitute shinigami studied him for a moment, the room quiet. Hitsugaya nervously tightened his grip on the paper, sliding it further inside the drawer. If Ichigo saw this, then the weeks of careful planning and organizing would be flushed down the toilet.

"You know, Toshiro," the strawberry finally said, "I can tell when you're lying."

Hitsugaya froze.

"Why would I lie to you?" he answered nervously.

"You tell me," the strawberry snorted. Hitsugaya could have sworn that he heard a hint of disgust in his voice.

"So, anyway," Ichigo continued as if nothing had happened. He gave Hitsugaya a bright grin. "Know what day it is in five days?"

Hitsugaya paused.

To say he knew it was Ichigo's birthday in five days would surely give away his intricately formed plot. He swallowed hard looking back up at the orange-haired teen. He hated playing dumb, but he wasn't about to throw his hard work away.

"No," he answered smoothly, "Why do you ask?"

Ichigo gave him a look of disbelief.

"I always remember _yours_!" he exclaimed, an annoyed look on his face.

"My what?" Hitsugaya asked innocently.

"Your...You know what, just forget it," Ichigo snapped, standing up, "Just forget it. I'm going to leave now."

"Fine," Hitsugaya retorted icily, "Then leave. No one's going to stop you."

There was a pause before Ichigo turned to look at Hitsugaya directly in the eyes. His gaze was condescending that even Hitsugaya, weilder of the strongest ice-type zanpaku-to in Soul Society, could feel his heart getting a little colder.

"Toshiro, you've been acting weird for a while now," Ichigo spoke slowly, "And I've noticed that you...You're not acting like the Toshiro I know. You're being all weird and secretive, like you have something to hide from me, something you don't want me to know. And, don't blame me for making this assumption, but just now, I had to wonder whether or not I really matter that much to you."

"Kurosaki, I..."

"Are you cheating on me, Toshiro?"

"Wh-What?"

"Are you cheating on me?" Ichigo repeated, his voice stonily serious, "Just tell me the truth. All you have to say is yes or no."

"I...I would never..."

"Then what is it you need to hide from me!? Why don't you _care_ about me anymore!? I haven't seen you in a whole month! Everytime I want to hang out, you always claim you're busy. If you don't want to be with me, just say so."

"That's not how it is!" Hitsugaya protested, "Kurosaki, you don't understand. I...I would explain everything to you if I could."

"Well, why can't you!?"

"Because...Because I..."

_Shit. Shit. Shit. _

"Forget it, Toshiro," Ichigo muttered, "You don't have to say anything else. I get it already."

"Kurosaki, I'm _not_ seeing another man like you suspect me to be. You know I would never."

"Actually, I'm beginning to doubt that," the strawberry answered acidly, "See you around."

And then, without another word, he stormed out of the office, slamming the large wooden doors loudly behind him.

Hitsugaya stared at the spot where Ichigo had been moments before, frozen. He had never heard Ichigo speak to him in that tone, or look at him with that stony glare before. Heck, he didn't even think Ichigo had ever raised his voice against him before until that moment.

With a sigh, he reached back into the desk drawer, pulling the list out.

Either way, whether Ichigo was pissed off at him or not, he had a party to throw, and he'd be damned if he'd let this arguement stop him.

* * *

The day had finally arrived.

After days of careful planning, it had finally come. The moment of truth. There was no going back now. And they couldn't afford to blow it after they had worked so hard to keep the party plans a secret.

The exclusive members of Hitsugaya's hand-picked guest list had all arrived at the Kurosaki residence three hours early as Hitsugaya had asked them too. Better to be early than late, and being strict about attendance, tardiness was not an option for these guests.

Renji, Rukia, Ikkaku, Yumichika, and Matsumoto had all arrived at the designated time, and Orihime, Ishida, and Chad had been instructed to take Ichigo elsewhere to distract him until they were ready.

As for the other Kurosaki's, Rukia had informed them on the situation, saying that Hitsugaya and the others were more of Ichigo's friends from school.

In his right hand, Hitsugaya clutched a list of orders, and in his left, he held a mixing spoon. A frilly pink apron was fastened around his waist, and a very childish bunny-shaped hairclip held his bangs out of his eyes. He had objected to this attire at first, but beggers can't be choosers, and he was determined to make Ichigo's cake by himself.

Matsumoto and the others had been smart not to laugh at the captain's outfit.

The authoritative glint in his eye told them that he meant business. As in, get-down-to-business-this-instant.

And that was evident in the way he was fiercely calling out orders to complete the final preparations.

"Abarai! Guard the door! Make sure Kurosaki doesn't come in any earlier than he should!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Kuchiki! Man the telephone! I want you communicating with Inoue Orihime and the others. Make sure you know where they are in every ten-minute interval."

"Yes, sir!"

"Madarame! Ayasegawa! You two, fix up the room a bit. Decorate it or _something_ - make it look good."

"Yes, Hitsugaya-taichou!"

"Matsumoto! Wrap and organize all the presents!"

"Okay, taichou!"

Hitsugaya was on a warpath now, no one could stop him from making that perfect cake! He marched into the kitchen, and without skipping a beat, he flung open the cabinet doors, pulling out every bowl and pan he could get his hands on. He selected the biggest one he could find, heaving it onto the countertop with considerable effort.

Prior to arrival, he had hurried to what the humans called a _supermarket_ - and had filled a shopping basket full to the brim with various frosting mixes, a full rainbow spectrum of sprinkles, and bags and bags of flour and sugar.

It would have been easier just to get some cake mixes, but he was determined to make this from scratch.

Hitsugaya clearly remembered Ichigo's words from their arguement - _Then what is it you need to hide from me!? Why don't you **care** about me anymore!? _And he was going to show that strawberry that, as a matter of fact, he _did_ care.

He filled the bowl with water, flour, sugar, eggs, vanilla, and a various other things he had picked up at the store, attacking the mixture fiercely with a wooden spoon, as if it was Hyorinmaru and he was attacking a hollow.

He stirred furiously, ignoring the stray batter that was splattering onto his face and hands. He stopped to give his poor arm a break, cautiously dipping a finger into the batter and giving it a lick.

With a nod of satisfaction, Hitsugaya carefully poured the batter into a pan before pushing it into the oven and setting the heat.

They didn't call him a prodigy for nothing!

While he was waiting for the cake to bake, he opened the packets of frosting mix, dumping them into another bowl, adding water, and stirring carefully. How nice. A lovely shade of pink. Now to put it in the pipettes.

After hearing the oven _beep!_ merrily, he hurried to the oven, armed with oven mitts as he opened the door and hoisted the pan out and onto the counter. It was a lot heavier than he thought it would be. With a grunt of effort, the captain flipped the pan upside-down onto a plate, gave the bottom a sharp smack, and watched in satisfaction as the cake plopped easily onto the plate.

Placing the pan aside, he snatched up the frosting-loaded pipette, giving it a gentle squeeze, dispensing the pink stuff onto the top of the cake in a squiggly border around the top and in the center.

Surveying his work, he contently placed the pipette down before fetching the strawberries from the refrigerator.

With utmost care, he cut the strawberries into even, vertical slices, arranging them around the cake's edge and center, placing a whole one in the very center.

There, he was done.

Triumphantly, the pleased prodigy wiped his hands off on his apron, setting the cake aside. It would have its moment.

His eyes moved to the clock.

According to the schedule he had set out, Ichigo would arrive soon.

Removing the apron and the hairclip, Hitsugaya hurried back out into the living room, relieved to find that his subordinates had taken care of their assigned tasks. He surveyed the room, making a last-minute scan to ensure that nothing was out of place and everything was _perfect_.

"Hitsugaya-taichou!" Rukia announced, "Inoue just called. They'll be entering the house soon."

Right on cue, they heard the doorknob click.

"Quick! Everyone, hide!"

With a squeak, Hitsugaya hurriedly rushed to the light switch, flipping them off. The room went dark, and he heard Renji yelping in pain. Undoubtedly, he had hit his foot on something as he had been scrambling to hide.

Without another word, the white-haired soul reaper slipped back into the kitchen and waited.

The door opened.

Ichigo stepped inside, followed by Orihime, Ishida, and Chad.

The strawberry gave them a confused look.

"I didn't turn off the lights before I left..." he muttered as he reached for the switch. He flipped it on, and the room was bright again.

The strawberry's eyes widened.

"What the hell is going on?"

The room, with Yumichika's expert insight, had been cleaned and decorated. The table was loaded with a moutain of presents and food. Cautiously, as if suspicious of something, Ichigo stepped forward, not knowing what else to expect.

**_"SURPRISE!"_**

Ichigo let out a squeak of shock as Renji, Rukia, Matsumoto, Ikkaku, and Yumichika burst out from behind the couch. He almost shitted his pants at the sudden movement and sound. Almost.

"Y-You guys..."

And then Hitsugaya emerged from the kitchen, holding what Ichigo thought was the most beautiful strawberry-vanilla cake he had ever seen in his entire life. Oh. My. God. It smelled so freaking delicious. He could almost taste it!

But, he noted, with a small smile, even more lovely was the boy holding the cake in his hands, looking at Ichigo with a hopeful expression.

"Toshiro..."

Cautiously, Hitsugaya placed the cake on the table next to the presents. He looked back up at the strawberry, who, with his watery brown eyes, looked like he was about to cry with happiness.

He wasn't sure whether or not Ichigo was still angry at him.

"Happy Birthday, Kurosaki."

There was a pause.

Hitsugaya swallowed. He wasn't still pissed, was he?

"Kurosaki, I'm sorry, this is why I-"

He was cut off as the subsitute shinigami practically threw himself at the startled prodigy, throwing his arms around him in an almost crushing embrace. That wasn't to say, though, that he didn't like it.

"I know," Ichigo murmured, fondly ruffling the white locks, "I get it. I shouldn't have accused you."

"I already said 'Happy Birthday,' now let go of me, you idiot."

Just as he thought, Ichigo didn't listen and only held him tighter.

"Thanks, Toshiro."

"...Let go."

"I don't think I will."

* * *

**The End.**


End file.
